


Subtle

by itsokayournot



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Slow Burn, and yes he's under 21, briefly drunk baz, but i'm not sure what the drinking age is in the uk, if it gets too boring just let me know in the comments and i'll try to spice it up lol, just really wanted to post it, soooooo, still in the process of writing, there's going to be a lot of exposition to start so bare with me, this is how it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsokayournot/pseuds/itsokayournot
Summary: It's eighth year, and Baz is back. On time. Actually, he's a little early, isn't he?In which Baz isn't kidnapped on summer holiday, and he actually gets to see his mum.(And is accidentally not very subtle when it comes to Simon Snow.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fic on ao3, along with my first chapter fic! I'm not completely sure how often I'll be updating - I'll try to get it in at least once every two weeks, but that is subject to change. I just really wanted to share this fic with the fandom and couldn't wait to finish it! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (P.S. None of the characters are owned by me - all belong to the amazing Rainbow Rowell. Some of the dialogue used in this chapter comes directly from the book.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope’s avoiding her room  
>  She says Trixie’s girlfriend came back early, too, and they don’t have any personal boundaries. “Did I tell you that Trixie got her ears pierced this summer? She wears big noisy bells right in the pointy parts.”  
>  Sometimes I think Penny’s Trixie diatribes are borderline speciesist. I tell her so.  
>  “Easy for you to say,” she says, all stretched out on Baz’s bed again. “You don’t live with a pixie.”  
>  “I live with a vampire!” I argue.  
>  “Unconfirmed.”  
> -"Carry On" by Rainbow Rowell

**BAZ**

I slam the car door, walking away from my father, refusing to look back. If I look back, it’ll make it seem like I still care.

And I don’t. (Don’t want to, anyway.)

It’s been like this all summer. Him egging me to get a girlfriend. He knows that if I don’t start dating now, I’ll probably never meet someone. Someone to “carry on the Pitch name with.” Like I could just do that. Like I could meet a girl, talk her up, pretend to fall in love, and then consistently continue that charade.

He knows I’m gay. He’s always known.

Sure, I’ve never explicitly came out and told him, but I certainly haven’t hidden the fact. I’ve never talked about girls with him - ever. It’s supposed to be a bonding thing between most fathers and sons, I guess. We just… never did it. And then there’s the fact that I know that he sees me checking out the guys on the television whenever football comes on. I’ve never been too subtle at home.

Watford... is a different story, however.

I’m sure I could tell Dev and Niall, but, honestly? I don’t see the point. I’m fairly certain they already know. (Our families talk. I’m sure that Daphne has told their mums, and then their mums them. It would be a little pointless to tell them if they already know.)

And there’s no one else I would really care to come out to. (Maybe Snow….) (No. Definitely not Snow. _Never_ Snow.)

I walk away, and I don’t look back.

* * *

I wonder how it’ll be this year. Between Snow and I. Every year, I go through this same charade in my mind. I’ll tell myself that I’ll stop bullying him. Stop teasing. Stop plotting. I tell myself that I’ll be nice for once.

And then I see his face.

And it’s too painful to be anything but mean to him.

I’ve just reached the top of the turret when I hear voices coming from inside our room, and I stop to listen. (I don’t think Snow has ever had someone in our room before. He mostly likes to escape it.)

It’s a shock when I realize that it’s a girl’s voice. Girls aren’t supposed to be able to get past the wards. At first I think it might be Wellbelove, and the thought makes me want to vomit - but then I recognize the voice, and it makes sense that this girl could.

“Did I tell you Trixie got her ears pierced this summer? She wears big noisy bells right in the pointy parts,” Bunce says - and I have to stifle a laugh. The mental image alone is absurd enough to bring anyone to their knees.

Snow responds, “You know, sometimes I think your rants on Trixie are borderline speciesist.”

It’s a bit of a shock to hear Snow speak in a complete sentence, if I’m being honest. And using the word speciesist at that. Usually, I only hear him blustering - which could be my own fault. Either way, I stop to listen longer; it’s not every day that I get to hear Simon speak coherently - and not pissed off (usually at me), either.

“Easy for you to say,” Bunce says. “You don’t live with a pixie.”

Snow’s response is immediate. “I live with a vampire!”

A snort escapes my throat, and I almost don’t hear what Bunce says next. “Unconfirmed.”

That makes my breath catch. (Does she really believe I’m not a monster?)

“Are you saying you don’t think Baz is a vampire?”

“I know he’s a vampire.” What little hope I had of her talking Snow out of the truth is crushed by those five words. She continues, “But it’s still unconfirmed. We’ve never actually seen him drink blood.”

I think I hear Snow scoff. “We’ve seen him covered in blood. We’ve found piles of shriveled-up rats with fang marks down in the Catacombs….” Both true; I should have been more careful. (It was fifth year; I was still getting the hang of it all.) “I’ve told you that his cheeks get really full when he has a nightmare? Like his mouth is filling up with extra teeth?” Wait… how the fuck would Snow know that? I wasn’t even aware of that.

My mind is still trying to wrap itself around that last bit of information, when Bunce says, “Circumstantial evidence. And I still don’t know why you’d creep up on a vampire who has night terrors.”

Excellent question, Bunce.

Snow practically shouts, “I live with him! I have to keep my wits about me.”

I roll my eyes, and Bunce says exactly what I’m thinking, “Baz’ll never hurt you in your room.” She’s right; I’ve never violated the Anathema. Not even in fifth year, when it seemed to be my only way out.

I almost think Snow’s going to drop it, but then he says, “Who knows what he’s capable of in his sleep.”

Seriously? He thinks I could kill him while asleep? Crowley, I am this fucking close to just barging in - I’m done listening to this.

I’ve got my wand out, and I’m just about to mutter the incantation to reintroduce myself to the room when I hear Bunce mutter, “You know what he’s capable of as much as you watch him.”

My wand stills, and I freeze, my eyes gone wide. The rest of their conversation fades out -- I can’t focus on it; I’m too busy trying to control my breathing.

I mean… I know that Snow watches me - he used to follow me non stop fifth year. But, I didn’t know that he watched me sleep. (That was supposed to be my thing.) And, I thought he’d gotten past all that. I honestly thought he’d stopped viewing me as a constant threat.

I thought he’d almost forgotten about me, if I’m being truly honest.

And, right now, I don’t care that he only really looks at me with contempt and hatred. I don’t care that he only ever watches me when he thinks I’m about to royally fuck him over.

Because at least he’s watching me.

And I’m in love with him; I’ll take whatever I can get.  


 

I suck in a breath when I hear footsteps from the other side of the door.

Then I straighten ( _ha, as if_ ), and haul my duffel over my shoulder. There’s no way I’m going to let them even think that I’ve been listening in.

The door opens just as I’m done uttering the incantation: “ _ **There’s no place like home.**_ ” Snow bolts out, his head still turned back towards the room; he doesn’t see me. His shoulder rams straight into my chest, and I stumble back, Snow coming with me, my arse hitting the ground not three inches from the top step.

Simon Snow is in my lap.

Help.

His temple is resting on my shoulder, and his hands are on either side of my hips. His shoulders are tense, I can tell. Like he’s waiting for my reaction.

I take in a breath (it’s shaky) (and audible) (and embarrassing), wanting to live in this moment just a minute longer. I can smell the scent of smoke wafting off him; it’s always there - like words on a page.

He slowly lifts his head, blue eyes meeting mine. (There’s something in them. I can’t tell what though.) He still hasn’t made a move to get off of me. Gritting my teeth, I mutter,

“Snow. Get. The. _Fuck_. Off.”

At that, he scrambles away like his arse has caught fire. “Sorry,” he says, casting his eyes down - not looking at me.

I push myself up, Snow moves to help me stand, but like hell I’m going to let him touch me after what just happened. “I can stand on my own, Snow.”

He nods. “Right.” Nods again. “Right.”

I grasp the handle of my duffel and throw it back over my shoulder, looking around at the same time. Bunce isn’t here anymore…. I suppose she could have snuck past while Snow was busy toppling me.

I look at Snow; he’s still looking at the ground, eyebrows scrunched in at the center. “I’m surprised you aren’t gearing for a fight,” I say.

His head snaps up, and his eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I roll my eyes. “It means that you’re acting like a kicked puppy when I’m the one who almost just got pushed down the bloody stairs.”

“I wonder how that must feel.” There's fire in his voice, and his eyes are narrowed in a determination I've seen far too often on that face.

I roll my eyes again, and push past him, walking into the room. “Welcome back, Snow.”

I’m met with his pounding footsteps.

So much for trying to be nice.

Breathing out a sigh, I collapse onto my bed. I think I might stay here the rest of the afternoon. Rest of my damn near miserable life.

I shove my face into my pillow and breathe in, trying to catch a hint of the lavender that is always just beneath the feathers and dust. It’s one of my favorite things about Watford. Instead, I’m met with the unmistakable scent of intensity and chocolate.

Fucking hell, _Bunce_.


	2. Chapter 2

**SIMON**

“I cannot believe you _tackled_ him,” Penelope cackles, and I groan, dropping my head on the table with a _thump_. I hear the knife I’d been using to butter my scone clatter onto the table.

“I mean-” she continues, barely holding it together, and not caring for my sanity at all - “I know that you couldn’t let Baz see me, but did you have to _t_ _ackle_ him? It looked like you two were playing rugby or something.”

I lay my cheek on the table and look up at her. She’s got that shite-eating grin on her face that she only uses when she’s mocking me. (Which rarely ever happens. But still. This one hurts.)

“I didn’t know he was _there,_ Penny! Do you think I’d have done it if I could have figured something quicker?”

I swear Penelope practically guffaws.

Honestly, it was the first thing I could think of. And it’s not like I’d meant to do it - not at first, at least. I’d still been looking at Penny when I ran into Baz; it’s not my fault he’s a lightweight. (You’d think he’d have stayed up, though, considering how he plays football and is a fucking _vampire._ )

And, anyways, why the fuck is he even _back_ already? He usually only shows up just in time for the back to school picnic, which is always the day before classes start. It doesn’t make sense for him to come back a whole day early.

Penny’s still giggling, and I elect to ignore that in favor of asking her a question. “Why do you think he's back?”

She grins again. "Who?'

I roll my eyes and give her a pointed look because she bloody well knows who I'm talking about.

Penny sighs and says, “I don’t know, Si. Maybe something could have happened at home.”

I roll my eyes and scoff. (Which I’ve never done before; it feels weird.) “Sure. Like his family would ever be upset with him. He’s probably got some big elaborate plot cooking. Something that he’ll use to take me out once and for all, but it’ll only work before classes start.”

Now Penelope is rolling her eyes. Mightily. “ _Simon_ , you have got to let that shite go. He hasn’t done anything since - what? - fifth year? I don’t think he’s going to off you tonight.”

I sit up. “But what if he does?”

Penny rolls her eyes again. “He’s _not_.”

“How do you know?”

Penny gives me a look that says, “ _If you don’t stop talking about Baz right now, I will personally see to it that the worsegers won’t be the worst thing you ever encounter.”_

She’s good at giving looks like that.

"It could be about the raids," Penny says with a shrug.

I sit up, and Penny glances up from the piece of toast she's been loading with beans. "What raids?" I ask.

She frowns at me. "The Mage's Men have been doing raids of all the old families houses since the middle of summer. Looking for artifacts and dark magic, that kind of thing. Prem told me about it. The Mage didn't mention it to you?"

I shake my head. Penny let's out a huff of air.

"I don't understand why he doesn't just  _tell_ you things. I mean - you are his heir - wouldn't he think to include you in anything? We've taken down dragons for Merlin's sake!"

I shrug. It feels like there's cotton glued to the top of my mouth.

Penny gives me a soft look - the kind she always reserves just for me. I look back down at my plate, then think of something. 

"What if Baz is trying to hide something at Watford that would have been confiscated at home?"

Penny's head tilts back and she groans so loud some of the other kids look over at us. I smile sheepishly at them and they turn back to their friends. 

" _Simon,_ " Penny says. "You have  _got_ to stop talking about Baz. He's taken up over a third of our conversation."

"But, Pen-"

"Seriously."

I cross my arms, but I stop talking about Baz, so I suppose Penny won. Though, I don’t stop thinking about him.

Really - what could possibly be his motive for coming back early? He’s never once done that. Second year, I had come back the morning of the picnic, and Baz had caught me crying in bed. (I was just _really_ glad to be back. To be _home_.) And I made sure to come back earlier every year after that. (He’d teased me relentlessly. I’d actually had hopes the summer between first and second year that we might actually become friends. And then he just had to go and be a wanker about everything.)

I think about what Penny said. About there maybe being trouble at home. I never really thought about it before, but I guess that it _is_ a possibility. It’s not like Baz is perfect. (No matter how much he wants me to think he is.)

He always speaks highly of his family, though. Like they’re the reference point for every other family blessed with magic. Like they’re top tier. Like they’re perfect.

I guess that could all be an image. An intricate mirage.

Maybe he hurt one of his siblings or something.

… Merlin, I’m an awful person. (Why would I even think that?)

He's probably just hiding something.

* * *

Penny and I talk until midnight. She tried bringing up the war, but I told her I didn’t want to think about it right now. We had been sitting under the yew trees.

“Simon.”

“Penny. It’s just - it’s peaceful right now. The strategizing can wait.”

She’d opened her mouth, like she wanted to say more, but I gave her a look and she closed it.

And now I'm standing outside my door, bracing myself for the torment Baz is about to rain down on me. (Just like he always does. Every. Single. Year.)

Finally, I shove it open. Baz is sitting at his desk, already going through our Magic Words textbook. He looks up when I let the door slam shut behind me. (I didn't mean to do that; it's a heavy door - super loud whenever it shuts on its own.)

"Wow, you're back late," Baz says, stating the obvious. "Snogging Wellbelove, were you?"

I scowl at him. "Agatha and I aren't dating anymore."

This seems to surprise him. His eyes go a little wider and his nostrils flair. His hair is in a bun low on the back of his head, and a few strands have fallen out and are framing his face. "Why?"

"None of your business," I tell him.

Really, it made sense. I'd been angry at first - devastated, really - but after the time on summer holiday I realized that it was for the best. Agatha had told me after Penny and I got back that she loved me. But that she didn't love me  _in that way_. Of course I'd been angry. I mean, I just got back from being  _kidnapped_ , and this is what she just had to tell me? Looking back on it though, it makes sense. Neither of us were very happy by the end. And Agatha certainly had... other interests. I wasn't going to force her to be in a relationship she didn't want to be in. That would have been evil of me.

Baz rolls his eyes and stands up from his chair in one, fluid motion. Walking to his wardrobe, he says, "Fine, have it your way."

He goes into the bathroom to change, and I curl up in my bed.  _Just one more year of this, and he'll be out of my life forever._ I smile at the thought.

But then I realize.  _Just one more year of this._

I'm not ready to leave Watford.  _I'm not ready._

I shove my face farther into my pillow, trying to block out the thoughts. And before I know it, I'm asleep.

 

 

It's lighter in the room when I wake. A different shade of gray.

And there's a woman standing at the end of Baz's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow,, it's a lot harder to write Simon than it is to write Baz.... Either way, I hope you all enjoyed the new chapter!
> 
> Thank you all sooo much for all the kudos and comments on the last chapter!!! It means the world


End file.
